


The Seed Inside ya Baby do you Feel it Growing?

by louissass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Oops, a tiny but of angst, harry accidently gets louis pregnant and doesnt even know until he gives birth, lots of baby feels, preterm labour, sorry no sass from louis he's pregnant give him a break, there's some pretty great zouis moments as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:50:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louissass/pseuds/louissass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Okay, this is your uterus,” she says, turning the picture round so Louis can see it. Jill pulls out a red sharpie and circles a smudge in the bottom right hand corner of the grainy picture. “And this little spot down here, that’s your baby.”</em>
</p><p>  <em>He stops breathing. Does this mean– is he–</em></p><p>  <em>“Congratulations, Mr Tomlinson, you’re pregnant.”</em></p><p>Or, the one where Louis gets pregnant and the baby comes early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seed Inside ya Baby do you Feel it Growing?

**Author's Note:**

> **Please note:** N+ is a made up drug. IT DOES NOT EXIST. Male pregnancies are possible, through the use of IVF, but is very much in the works at the moment. In this story, the drug Jay takes when pregnant with Louis causes him to grow a uterus, and means he is able to have children like women do. I tried to make this as realistic as possible, but as I've never had kids, I don't actually know what it's like. Sorry if this is all wrong and horrible. I tried.
> 
> This is my first Mpreg fic, I'm sorry if you hate it.
> 
> My tumblr is [millionairelouis](http://millionairelouis.tumblr.com) come hit me up!

Louis finishes up in the bathroom and flushes the throw up down the loo, before gently making his way back in to the living room, holding his stomach carefully, where Eleanor, Sophia and Perrie are waiting for him. They’re having a girl’s night in – in _Louis’_ hotel room, no less – and after Louis’ whining prevented them from painting their nails, they let him stay. He hasn’t been staying for very long intervals, however, because he keeps on having to rush to the toilet and throw up his dinner.

Stupid tummy bug, stupid undercooked Mexican food.

“You okay there, poppet?” Perrie asks sympathetically as he eases his way back into the sofa. Louis nods his head slowly and sinks down into the plush leather with a sigh.

“Want us to get you anything?” Eleanor asks then. She’s a great friend, really, and Louis is a little sad their friendship has turned into some stupid publicity stunt that they now have to keep up with. It was supposed to end after two years, but somehow PR managed to rope them in to another contract and now here they are, wishing the next five years away.

“A mint, maybe?” Louis says lightly, trying to joke away his pain, but clearly doing a rubbish job of it. “I’m fine, girls, it’s just a spot of food poisoning. I’ll be alright in a few days.”

“Well you better be,” Perrie says, “Your tour re-starts in three days. Can’t have you ill on the road, that’d be a disaster.”

Louis sticks his tongue out and slowly reaches forward to press play on the movie they’re watching. It’s a Disney night, and so far they have got through Mulan, Pocahontas and Brother Bear. Now, it’s Bambi, the bit when Bambi’s mum gets shot, and Louis doesn’t normally get attached to films – _especially_ Disney films – but the tears are suddenly streaming down his face, and he has a job to wipe them away without anyone seeing.

They see.

Sophia is the first to point it out, sniggering, “Louis are you _crying_?”

“No,” he mumbles, sniffing away his tears. Eleanor and Perrie lean to have a look with an amused look on their faces, so Louis covers his face with his hands and sobs a little more. It’s just so unfair, that Bambi had to grow up without a mother, the most important person in a young baby’s life. Louis can’t imagine what he would’ve done with himself if he had to grow up without his mum, he just can’t.

“Oh my god, you _are,_ ” Perrie says and Louis shakes his head.

“Shut up guys, it’s an emotional film, I’m sure Lou’s just tired,” Eleanor offers up, a soothing hand running all down Louis’ back.

“What if he’s preggers though,” Sophia says, and the other girls laugh. Louis’ face burns red behind his hands, and he looks up, eyes puffy and red from crying.

“That’s impossible, I’m a boy. Boy’s don’t get pregnant.” He says.

Sophia’s smile drops at the tone in his voice. “It was only a joke, Lou.”

“Whatever. Play the film,” he says, seeing the girls had paused it _yet again,_ for him. Eleanor plays the DVD and the film continues, but Louis doesn’t pay attention. His mind is caught in a swirl of words and phrases, dipping in and out of his brain, but the loudest one, the eye of the storm, is the four words; _what if he’s preggers_.

Louis wants kids so bad, it’s all he’s ever wanted really – a little girl or boy he can spoil and dress in pretty tutus and tiaras, one that he can show his mad footie skills to and be their hero. He wants to be a dad, when his career has died down a bit and he’s not jetting off every few months to some random corner of the world and singing with his four best mates. It’s not that he’s bored or ungrateful for his job, Louis is content with where he’s at right now, but he’s also making plans for the future, realistically nothing lasts forever.

It’s just that, well Louis isn’t gay, but he isn’t exactly straight, either.

He hasn’t put a label on his sexuality, he loves people for who they are, not their biological make-up. But he goes through phases and, right now, women are not his thing. When he wanks off, Louis thinks about a nice thick cock up his arse, or choking one down as it’s fucked into his face, not boobs and clits. Unfortunately for Louis, this means he won’t be having kids any time soon because, well, boys can’t have babies (and the small uncomplicated issue of him being single).

“I’ve got a pregnancy test in my bag, if you want to look,” Sophia says shyly. Louis looks up from his knees to see the TV off, three girls looking at him with varying levels of concern.

“What did you stop the movie for?” Louis asks, ignoring the embarrassing question, but his cheeks still heat up in embarrassment. He’s _not_ peeing on a stick for his friends’ enjoyment, no thank you.

“It finished ten minutes ago, Lou,” Perrie says sympathetically. Louis doesn’t need her pity.

“Oh.”

Eleanor clears her throat. “I looked it up, and it’s actually possible for you to be pregnant. In the early 90’s there was this anti-sickness drug that most women during pregnancy took called _‘N+’_ , but it was discontinued in about ’92 after they found the baby girls that were born after their mums took it were infertile. But get this, the baby boys that were born had uteruses and a very limited number of eggs.”

Louis blinks. He blinks again.

“I’m not pregnant.” He says slowly.

“Humour us,” Perrie says and Sophia hands out the pee stick for him to take. Louis huffs, but takes it anyway and heads off to the bathroom.

It’s so stupid, they read one article about a damn drug that apparently fucks up the inner biology of people and all of a sudden Louis is pregnant. Like, it’s not even as if his mum took the drug, she always told Louis she never got that much morning sickness, he definitely doesn’t remember her being too ill when she was pregnant with any of his sisters.

He texts her any way. _Heard of N+?? x.L_

 _Sure it was a drug I took to help w/ all the trouble you caused me when you were in my belly .xx why?_ She replies, Louis exhales deeply.

His timer to check the stick startles him and he reaches out for the dreaded stick and slowly turns it over, inhaling sharply.

I I

Pregnant. 

Shit.

*

The call to the GP is awkward. It’s not his usual doctor, seeing as they’re touring in America right now, but even so the five of them still all share the same GP, and Louis knows that any time he calls in, their management team is notified immediately. He’s thankful for patient confidentiality, meaning only he can choose to tell other people why he visited the doctors, but he still expects a call soon from those in higher power than he.

Louis sits in the small, uncomfortable waiting room with his sunglasses on and collar pulled up high. He knows this is a private clinic, only used by the very rich or slightly famous (and one direction, obviously) but that doesn’t mean he won’t be recognised, and he can’t deal with that today.

He fiddles with his phone, feeling the nerves build up inside his tummy and scowls at his mum’s contact number. This is all her fault, giving birth to a freak child with a womb, and then not even telling him he’s a freak child, so he could at least be careful when boys want to stick it in him.

It’s Harry’s fault too, actually. They had a one night stand, of sorts. The two got extremely pissed in Portugal after their last show in Europe, and Louis just kind of… fucked him. It was nice, Harry even said so himself the morning after, and Louis fucked him again. It became sort of extended for the whole break, but both agreed it would end when work started up again, no feelings attached. And it worked; Louis doesn’t have any feelings towards Harry any more, except resentment. The _one time_ he let Harry top, and he gets him fucking knocked up.

“Mr Tomlinson,” The American doctor – Jill – says and Louis stands up quickly, walking towards her office. He sits down in another uncomfortable chair and takes off his sunglasses, clasping his hands nervously over the lenses. “So your Ultrasounds arrived this morning, and you do in fact have a uterus.”

Louis lets out a nervous breath, “But am I pregnant?”

“When do you believe the baby would’ve been conceived, if you were pregnant?”

Louis’ eyes widen and he shakes his head. He refuses to talk about his sex life with a random woman who could very easily sell a story to the papers that Louis Tomlinson is in fact gay, and pregnant.

Jill sighs and rests her hand on top of his. “Mr Tomlinson, it’s very important I know, to determine if you are with child or not. It may be that there aren’t any signs of a foetus on your scan, but it could well be that it’s too early in to your pregnancy to tell.”

“May be, what do you mean?”

“I personally haven’t looked at your scan yet, Mr Tomlinson, though I was told the ladies at the hospital were blown away by your uterus. It’s not a common thing to see, particularly as you show no other sings of a sex change.” She says.

Louis’ mouth drops open. “That’s because I haven’t _had_ a sex change.” Jill’s face pales. “My mum took some dodgy pill when she was knocked up with me that screwed up my insides and apparently others have gone on to deliver kids. Like, proper actual human beings.”

“Right, well, we’ll look at the scan together, yeah?” She asks and Louis nods. “But first I need to know the approximate date of conception, I need to know if the baby is healthy and developing properly – if there even is one.”

Louis takes a deep breath. Well then.

“I’d say about… six odd weeks ago.” He says, watching as Jill pulls the scan results out of a brown paper envelope and studies the scans carefully.

“Okay, this is your uterus,” she says, turning the picture round so Louis can see it. Jill pulls out a red sharpie and circles a smudge in the bottom right hand corner of the grainy picture. “And this little spot down here, that’s your baby.”

He stops breathing. Does this mean– is he–

 “Congratulations, Mr Tomlinson, you’re pregnant.”

Louis has to concentrate really hard on not passing out.

He fails.

*

When he comes to, information is thrown at him – important stuff like how to stay alive and not hurt the baby – and Louis would be lying if he said he took it all in. Thankfully, Jill understands and gives him a bunch of leaflets and handy websites to visit. It’s suggested he downloads an app on his phone to help him keep track of his pregnancy and keep on top of it, and it’s the first thing he does when he’s in the car, being driven back to the stadium. But most importantly, the last thing Jill gives him is a scaled down picture of the little dot in his uterus, the first black and white image of his baby. Louis puts it in his wallet.

As he arrives at the stadium, Paul is standing at the stage door, tapping his foot anxiously and looking angry. “Louis, there you are! Where the hell have you been? The car was sent for you _two hours_ ago!”

“Had to make a pit stop,” he shrugs, adjusting the strap of his rucksack (the one containing all his goodies from the doctors inside) on his shoulder cautiously. Louis still feels pretty rough from all the throwing up he’s done the past couple of days, and is glad it seems to have settled down a little bit.

“Next time it’d be better if you at least told me you were going to be late,” Paul huffs as he holds the door open for Louis to duck inside, “Thought you’d been kidnapped or something,”

“Well I’m here now, aren’t I,” He says, trying to sound light and airy, when in actual fact his brain is heavy, thoughts weighing him down, and if Louis is finding it a little hard to breathe, no one has to know. “Hey boys!”

“Lou!” Niall grins as Louis enters wardrobe (it’s a room with five clothes racks and t-shirts scattered all over the floor, despite Caroline’s attempt to pick them up). “Where you been, mate? We were worried,”

“You just missed your Gameboy, Nialler,” Louis says, fishing the Gameboy out of his now open rucksack and throwing it over to the blond boy.

“Damn right I did, that thing cost me a bomb,” Niall says, and opens it immediately, sitting on the sofa next to Liam, who is probably texting Sophia, _again._

Louis flops down on the other sofa just to the right of the door with a sigh and throws his bag on the floor. The walk from the car to the stadium really took it out of him, now he understands what his mum felt like when she was pregnant, and his baby isn’t even that big yet. Louis’ eyes snap open quickly, from where they were drifting closed, and he half sits up, hand clinging desperately to the arm of the chair. His baby. _His_ baby, the one inside him. Fuck, that’s gonna take some getting used to.

“You alright there, Lou?” a voice says, making him jump. Louis relaxes when he realises its Harry and leans in to the big warm hand on his back. “What did that poor chair ever do to you?”

Louis looks down at his hand, and notices his knuckles are white from gripping the material so hard, his nails digging in and causing tiny tear marks in the cotton. He clears his throat, releases the arm of the sofa from his grip, and shrugs.

“You seem really tense, want a massage?” Harry offers and Louis really, really does want a massage, but it feels wrong, it feels weird getting it from Harry, the guy who knocked him up. Louis can’t breathe. “Where did you get all this paper from?”

Louis looks to his open bag and zips it up, clutching it in his hand as he rises from the sofa and eyes the door nervously.

“Lou?” Harry is standing up as well, a hand on his hip, soft but firm, and it’s too much but at the same time not enough. His eyebrows are drawn together in a deep frown, and Louis can tell the younger boy is truly concerned about him, but right now he doesn’t need that, what he needs is to _breathe_.

He’s gasping for breath, but his body doesn’t seem to be functioning properly, everything is too close, too many people, not enough oxygen, he needs to damn breathe. Louis’ chest hurts and his eyes are drooping, and he thinks _no, not again, not going to pass out again,_ so he doesn’t, he just sways a little until warm heavy hands are steadying his shoulders, piercing green eyes staring into his own and a soft, thick voice seeps into his ears.

“Louis? Louis can you hear me? You have to breathe, mate,” it sounds like Zayn. He forces himself to look away from Harry’s eyes and just behind his shoulder is Zayn, blurry, but he’s there. “I think he’s having a panic attack, Harry, how did you used to deal with yours?”

Louis stumbles and catches himself on the arm of the sofa, but Harry keeps hold of his shoulders tightly. “Louis, listen to me, listen to my voice, okay?”

Louis nods and grabs on to Harry’s wrist, using it to ground himself a little more.

“Good, now I want you to try to mimic my breathing,” Harry continues, breathing deeply, “In, out, in and out, good, just like that.”

The two keep breathing together until Louis is sufficiently control of his own breath, the majority of the panic attack seeming to have passed. He sits back down on the sofa and Zayn sits next to him while Harry gets him a bottle of water from the food table in another room. Louis finds it easier now Harry is further away, he doesn’t have to think about the baby if Harry isn’t there, seeing as it is part curly haired gangly idiot, and part him. Louis briefly wonders if the kid will have brown curly hair and massively long legs and tell stupid knock knock jokes and be the kindest kid in the playground, and that makes him smile, if briefly.

Louis’ smile fades when Harry comes back with the water bottle, but he does nod a thank you and take big gulps of the liquid, resting his tired head against Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn kisses his hair and strokes his arm, and soon enough Louis has calmed down enough that if he calmed down any more, he’d be asleep.

“Better now, Lou?” Zayn asks and Louis nods.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, “It got too much,”

“What did?” Harry asks curiously. He’s kneeling down in front of the pair and Louis can’t help but scowl, and feel incredibly bad immediately after.

“Everything,” is what he settles for, even though what he means is _you_.

Harry snorts, “All I did was ask you if you wanted a massage. I was trying to be kind.”

Louis almost laughs at that, because Harry thinks that’s what set him off. Does he not even remember asking about the baby stuff? Maybe Louis is less ready to face up to the truth than he first thought. “Well don’t.”

“Don’t what? Be kind?” Harry asks hysterically, and Louis can hear the tone in his voice, he knows where this is going, but he doesn’t stop.

“Don’t ask.” He replies nonchalantly, before burying his face in Zayn’s neck.

Harry huffs out a laugh, “Yeah well I think I’ve learnt my lesson.”

“Good,” he grunts out and Zayn’s grip on his arm tightens. Louis says it quietly, so he doesn’t think Harry hears, but apparently he does.

“You are unbelievable. All I did was try to help you out, because I can see how tired and stressed out you are, god knows why, when we’ve just had ten days off. Y’know what, Louis, next time I just won’t bother.” He says, and Louis just loses it. He untangles himself from Zayn and stands up, face red and angry.

“ _You’re_ trying to help _me_ out? God, it’s all your bloody fault in the first place, you imbecile! You’re the one who–” Louis cuts himself off with a sigh. He’s angry, but the shred of rationality left in his brain – the one not addled by female fucking hormones – tells him that if he let his mates know he was pregnant, they’d judge him, laugh at him, treat him differently. He doesn’t want that, he’s already caused enough damage.

“Go on, say it, I’m the one who what?” Harry says, an amused look on his face.

Louis just glares, finally snapping. “You’re the one who can’t seem to let go! Whatever we had is over now and we agreed it would be over, but you still can’t seem to get over the fact that we fucked, and it was the best fuck of your life.”

Louis snatches his bag up from off the floor and leaves.

*

If there’s one thing Louis loves more than touring, it’s touring while tipsy. Not like, totally paralytic off the wagon pissed, just pleasantly buzzed. It’s a sort of thing he and Niall have, they do a shot of tequila before the show, and then one in the interval. It just makes everything seem nicer and happier, and Louis likes having something special to he and Niall. It feels nice, knowing that his whole entire life doesn’t revolve around rituals with Harry.

But now that he’s pregnant, Louis can’t fucking drink, so he’s been doing he best to avoid Niall until they’re on stage, at which point they can’t talk about alcohol (some of their fans are amazing lip readers). Louis _hates_ touring while pregnant.

He’s lasted two weeks, two weeks without a single drink, and it’s going well. Louis isn’t an alcoholic, but he honestly thought he’d have more problems than this going T-Total. But now they have three days off, and the boys want to go clubbing, ‘like the old days, just the five of us’, no girlfriends or fake girlfriends, or management getting in the way, and Louis hates saying no, but his baby’s more important.

 _His_ baby. Louis’ starting to like the sound of that more and more each day.

“Sorry lads, I’m conked out. Maybe some other time?” He says lightly, lying on the bed. His hand is resting on his tummy, no signs of his pregnancy are showing yet, but even so Louis feels the need to cover it, to protect his little baby.

“Please, Lou? It won’t be the same without you there!” Liam whines, punching him in the arm.

Harry rolls his eyes. “He only doesn’t want to go because I’m going.”

“Believe it or not, Harry, not everything I do revolves around you!” he huffs in an annoyed tone. It’s been two weeks and Louis and Harry are still arguing. Louis’ hormones are all over the place, and he’s been snapping at everyone lately, but he’s apologised quickly enough and they’ve gone their separate ways. Not with Harry, though. Louis is still pissed that Harry knocked him up, and he figures it’ll take him a while to get over it.

“Oh really?” Harry muses. “Why aren’t you going, then?”

“Because I can’t bloody drink!” It just comes out, he doesn’t mean it to, but sometimes Louis really can’t stop himself from talking. He should really get that seen to.

“Why not?” Zayn asks immediately. He and Zayn are lying on the bed together, Louis lying the top half of his body completely over Zayn’s chest, while Liam, Niall and Harry are sitting on the dresser table. It never used to be like this, normally Harry and Louis would nab the bed and have a little cuddle, but Louis can’t bring himself to even touch the boy at the moment, knowing what he did.

He wants to say, _because Harry knocked me up_ , but instead, he mumbles, “Doc said it’s bad for my health.”

“Since when has that ever stopped you?” Liam asks, an amused tone in his voice. Louis scowls.

“Since I had a health scare a few weeks ago and the Doc said if I carry on drinking the way I do I could have a haemorrhage, _Liam Payne_ ,” He replies. It’s true, Jill explained to him that if he had a miscarriage it could cause severe internal bleeding and he could die, directly after telling him that if he drinks too much, he could have a miscarriage.

“When was this?”

Louis shrugs. “Pasadena.”

The room goes silent, but he’s sure everyone understands exactly what he means by that. He means his late arrival and his freak out and his fight with Harry, and now they all get that it’s because of his health. It doesn’t mean he’s going to apologise to Harry, though.

“Well, he doesn’t want to go, I say we leave now, beat the paps,” Harry says, jumping off the table and not giving Louis a second glance. Liam and Niall shrug and get off the table as well, following the moody twenty year old to the front door. Zayn nudges his side.

“You gonna be alright here by yourself?”

Louis nods. “Go have a good time, yeah? Have a drink on me.”

“Will do, Lou,” Zayn says, pressing a kiss to his head, before getting off the bed. He makes it to the hallway, before he turns back around and looks at the boy on the bed. “He doesn’t mean it, he’s just mad. He’ll come round soon enough.”

“Yeah,” Louis says, though he’s not sure he will.

*

October comes and goes, Louis gets his 12 week scan done at his local hospital and sticks the picture in his wallet, right next to the little dot. The nurse gives him a due date (Early May) and asks him if he wants to know the sex, but he doesn’t, he’d rather just call it _baby,_ it seems less real that way. Baby makes Louis feel bloated, and his cravings come in weird, random times – normally in the middle of the night, the little shit – and he has to run to Tesco’s to pick up some peanuts and chilli sauce, because he seems to have run out. The sweet cravings came and went within the space of a week, now he wants thinks like radish and mustard sandwiches at three in the morning. Louis is glad he lives alone.

November is full of promo for their new album and their new tour next year, which Louis hopes won’t interfere with his due date – wouldn’t that be embarrassing.

Right now, however, he’s on a ‘date’ with his best mate, Eleanor, so the media can spin a story about how even though Louis is so busy, he still finds time to take his girlfriend on a shopping spree. Honestly, it’s all they do and Louis is bored of it. They’re in some stupid girly shop and Eleanor is sifting through the clothes, while Louis looks at his belly in the mirror. A tiny bump started to appear a few weeks ago, but Louis could only feel it if he ran his hand over his belly, instead of see it. It seems more prominent now as he stands side on in the mirror.

“Do I look fat to you?” He asks, in Eleanor’s general direction, knowing full well he can’t ask if he looks preggers or not.

Eleanor laughs. “What?”

“Do I look like I’ve put on weight?” Louis pouts in the mirror and pulls his t-shirt up, running his hand over his raised belly. It’s definitely protruding, and it’s making him feel fat and ugly. Damn baby making him feel insecure about his weight again.

“Honestly?” Eleanor asks, walking over and standing behind him. They meet eyes in the mirror and Louis nods. “A little. I mean, not like overweight, just a little more chubby.”

Chubby. Louis looks chubby, great.

“It’s probably because you’re off tour now and you aren’t jumping around every night.” She offers kindly. Louis huffs and gives her a look.

“Whatever, have you picked what you’re getting?”

“Nearly,” she says, holding up two t-shirts, “Not sure which one to get,”

“The striped cropped one. It’ll make your boobs look good,” He mumbles and Eleanor grins, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re literally like my gay best friend, you know that?”

Louis laughs, “I do.”

Eleanor pays for her clothes and Louis carries the bag, while the two of them head out on to the street again, a body guard not too far behind. Louis’ hand is a little sweaty, but Eleanor doesn’t seem to mind. He loves her for that.

“I’m really craving some pickled eggs, wanna get lunch?” He says as if it is the most normal thing in the world. Eleanor huffs out a laugh but agrees nonetheless and they go to a nice little Greek café and get coffee and sandwiches.

When Louis orders olives, feta and anchovies, Eleanor says, “I thought you wanted pickles eggs?”

“Well now I want anchovies.” Louis says and winks at the girl across the table as she laughs. The waiter leaves and since the room is quite noisy, Louis tries to pull his chair closer to the table so he can hear Eleanor when she speaks, but his baby bump gets in the way. He huffs and pokes it, ignoring the little flutter he feels in response. It’s probably just his belly wobbling and settling down after he abused it, he reasons.

“It’s not that bad, Lou, I promise,” she says sweetly, she rests her hand on his belly and runs it over his t-shirt, soothing the bump underneath. His tummy flutters again, and Eleanor jumps back in shock. “Did your stomach just– _kick_ me?”

So _that’s_ what it is. His tummy has been fluttering for a few days now, but Louis thought it was just wind, or hunger, never once did he think it was baby, having a little kick. Louis lets out a nervous laugh, “It rumbled because I’m hungry and I want my anchovies.”

Eleanor laughs and Louis sighs, thankful he used to be an actor.

Eleanor carries on talking, but Louis is too caught up in his thoughts to even think about listening. Baby is kicking. Louis remembers his mum’s excitement whenever Lottie or Fizzy kicked, she would always call for him and let him feel the spot where the baby was ‘having a tumble’ as she called it. Louis would always gasp in amazement and rest his head over the spot, to feel the baby kicking at his head. It feels even more amazing now it’s in his own belly.

“Lou? Are you even listening to me?” She sighs, a small smile on her lips.

“Hmm?”

Eleanor just shakes her head. “Niall’s holding a get together next Tuesday. He asked me to ask you because apparently you aren’t answering your phone.”

“I can’t. I’ve got a– doctor’s appointment.” Shit, Louis almost said prenatal. That would’ve been embarrassing. He’s excited though, because it’s another ultrasound, and that means he gets another picture of baby to put in his wallet. Louis rubs his belly subconsciously.

“What, _all day_? It’s only in the afternoon, Lou. We’re meeting at three for a barbeque and drinks. Perrie reckons it’ll be our last chance before we all go away for the holidays,” his appointment is at a quarter to three, shit. The waiter comes back and puts their sandwiches on the table. Louis eyes his anchovies hungrily.

“Tell Niall I’ll be a bit late, okay?”

Eleanor grins and throws a tomato at Louis’ head. “Tell him yourself, you lazy arse.”

Louis laughs out loud and bites into his sandwich, savouring every bite (and totally scoffing it down).

*

When the nurse puts the warm jelly on his tummy, Louis suddenly finds himself getting incredibly nervous. It’s been two months since he last saw his baby on the big screen, and all sorts of thoughts are going through his head. What if the baby isn’t growing normally? What if it’s got some sort of disability or dysfunction? Louis wouldn’t love it any less, but he worries others would.

“Just relax, Mr Tomlinson,” Nurse Ginny says, positioning the dongle on his bump. “I’m going to check the baby’s health and make sure it’s growing normally. We should be able to hear the heartbeat today, and determine the sex a little better than your last scan, if you’d like.”

Louis just shakes his head. “I don’t what to know pumpkin’s sex.”

After reading online that it was good to let baby hear his voice, Louis has taken to talking and singing to his belly, seeing as he’s alone most of the time. He isn’t sure how it happened, but one time Louis just said _‘how was that, pumpkin?’_ and the nickname sort of stuck. He tries not to think about how he used to call sixteen year old Harry that.

“Pumpkin, I like it,” the nurse giggles, her eyes fixed on the screen. “It’s original. Most people go for peanut.”

“I just thought that seeing as I’ll be the size of a pumpkin pretty soon, it seemed sort of fitting,” he says lightly as she moves the dongle around his bump.

Ginny smiles and nods, before getting down to the serious stuff. “Well, pumpkin seems to be growing normally in there, a little small, but that’s to be expected in a male pregnancy.”

“Do you get a lot of them round here?” Louis asks curiously, suddenly wondering if he’s the first guy to ever get pregnant, would he get some sort of prize for that? Like a Guinness world record or something? Louis reckons he should.

“Not a lot, no, but I’ve seen a fair few this past year, all around your age,” she says, “It’s all because of this anti-sickness pill mums were taking in the early 90’s. It did horrible things to the little babies they were carrying, thankfully it’s been taken off the market for at least twenty or so years now.”

Louis nods and Ginny clicks a button on the keypad of the ultrasound machine and a fast clicking noise is heard around the room. That’s– is that his baby’s little heart beating? Louis starts to well up because it’s _real,_ this baby inside him is real and its living and _he made that._ With Harry’s help, of course.

“The heart is beating normally, oh I do believe we have a wriggler, Mr Tomlinson,” she says with a laugh and spins the screen round so Louis can look at it comfortably.

Pumpkin seems to be doing a little dance to the sound of its own heartbeat and Louis chokes out a laugh, rapidly blinking his tears away. He can see baby moving and he can feel it moving, because it’s inside him and it’s just wonderful. Louis rests a hand on the side of his belly, so as to not get it in any of the gel, and brushes his fingers across his goose bumped skin, hoping little pumpkin can feel it.

“Hold this here for a minute, I’ll get you a picture of little pumpkin to go with your others,” she says, handing the dongle to Louis, before rushing out the room to the printer.

Louis’ eyes stay on his little mover, watching as he starts to settle down a little, now that his drum beat has gone. He hums ‘small bump’ under his breath softly, whilst rubbing his hands over the bottom of his tummy, where barely any gel is, and watches as pumpkin gives out one little kick, before seemingly resting. Baby knows Louis’ touch, baby knows its dad’s touch. No doubt the little shit will be moving around again in a few hours, but Louis can’t help but feel like he’s witnessed something special, a once in a life time he won’t ever see again, and it’s all down to Harry. Maybe he’s starting to forgive the boy.

Ginny comes back from the printer and hands him a little wallet sized photo, which he immediately sticks in his back pocket, while she helps cleans the gel off his belly. He says goodbye to her and the other nurse who was kind enough to not interrupt his little moment with pumpkin, even though she was in the room, and calls for a car to take him to Niall’s. The car he arrived in waited just down the road for him, so it doesn’t take long before Louis and pumpkin are safely seated in the back of a black company car.

Louis knows it’ll take at least ten minutes to get to Niall’s, so he fishes out the photo from his back pocket and puts it in his wallet. At the last minute, he changes his mind and takes the other two scan photos and rests them all on his knees. From little dot, to alien baby, to fully formed baby shaped baby. Louis doesn’t mean to, he just cries.

He’s witnessing life as he knows it, he’s watching his little baby, the one growing inside him, he’s watching it go from a little egg to a proper thing he’s going to have to squeeze out of his arsehole in four months, _holy fuck_ that’s gonna hurt like hell. The point is, none of this would’ve happened, he wouldn’t have got to experience any of this if it wasn’t for Harry.

Louis takes out his phone and calls him. He knows he’ll see him in five minutes at Niall’s, but that doesn’t seem quick enough. When Harry answers with a huff and a short, _“what?”,_ Louis can’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I miss you and I’m sorry I snapped at you, can we be friends again, please?”

The pause is agonisingly long and Louis starts biting his nails, even pumpkin has a little kick in anticipation, but eventually Harry responds. “Of course we can. Everyone’s dying to see you, you’re on your way, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m just pulling up now,” he says, and he’s a little breathless, but neither of them comment on it. Louis hangs up just as the car pulls in to Niall’s driveway and rests a hand on his bump. “You hear that, pumpkin? Daddy and daddy just made up.”

Pumpkin kicks his hand and Louis giggles, before getting out the car and using his key to get into Niall’s house, making his way to the garden, where he knows everyone will be sitting. Louis locates Harry quickly and takes a running jump at him, hugging the boy tight and burying his face in Harry’s neck.

“Missed you so much,” Louis whispers, “Missed your smell and your laugh and your long legs and your stupid knock knock jokes,” he says, huffing out a laugh, before pulling back to look at Harry in the eyes. “And I missed your kindness.”

Harry just grins and hugs him tighter. “I missed you too, you giant sap.”

Louis hears cheers from behind him and grins, glad that his friends are happy he and Harry made up.

“Sorry I tried to replace you with Zayn,” He mutters, pressing a kiss on Harry’s cheek.

“Oi!” Perrie interjects, pulling Zayn closer to her. Zayn just laughs and gives her a kiss on the nose.

“Sorry I forced you to replace me with Zayn,” Harry giggles in response.

“Oi!” This time it’s Zayn who protests, and everyone laughs. Harry and Louis both settle down after that – which Louis is grateful for, because his feet are killing him – taking their seats around the metal table and leaning in to each other instead of away. Louis smiles so wide, happy he has his best friend back, and rests a hand on his bump. _It’s all down to you, pumpkin._

“Oh, how did your doctor’s appointment go, by the way, Lou?” Niall asks, snapping his tongs together from where he just turned the sausages on the barbecue. Thanks Eleanor. He glares at her, she just shrugs.

“It went great, Niall,” he says, a shit eating grin on his face, and rubs his belly, remembering the way pumpkin responded to his touch during the scan. “Better than great actually, fantastic, even.”

“That good, was it?” Liam snorts.

“Don’t test me, Payne,” Louis says, and even thought his voice is supposed to be threatening, the smile on his face sort of ruins it. He’s just so happy they’re one big happy family again.

*

Things go well through the last few days of November, and most of December as well. There’s only one little blip, when Louis is singing his verse on their new single for the first time live on the x factor, and pumpkin elbows him pretty hard (it always responds to Louis’ voice nowadays). His eyes go wide and his voice falters for a second, but he picks it up again quickly and no one is too worried. Apart from Harry, but then, Harry is always worried.

Their promo ends for the year on the 14th of December, and since his family are away for Christmas, Louis goes up early to see them and to give the girls (and Ernie) the presents he got them in Japan. When the front door opens, he’s met with Phoebe and Daisy, both screaming his name as loud as they can.

“Gosh, you two are getting tall, aren’t you?” He says as he hugs them both standing up, no longer having to kneel down to be the same height as them anymore.

“You’re fat, Louis,” Daisy says as she pulls away.

“Oh, thanks,” Louis replies lightly, pulling her hair, “Phoebe was always my favourite anyway, maybe she’ll just get double presents this year from me.”

“I didn’t mean it nastily,” she says with wide eyes, “I was just telling you in case you didn’t know yet. That would be embarrassing.”

“It would, wouldn’t it? Good job I know,” he laughs, leading the two of them into the kitchen, where Fizzy and Lottie are helping with the food. “Hi girls,”

“Hey Lou,” Lottie says nonchalantly, the Louis knows she misses him. It’s easier for her to deal with it, if she pretends she doesn’t only see him a few times a year. Fizzy runs over and gives him a hug, and Louis has to struggle to rest his chin on her head. All his girls are growing up, it’s quite upsetting really.

“Getting a bit podgy there, Lou,” Fizzy jokes, poking his bump.

Louis laughs, “So I’ve been told,”

“Now, girls, leave him alone,” Lottie says, turning around with an amused expression, “He might be pregnant,”

There’s a beat of silence and Louis panics. What is he supposed to say? Is he supposed to laugh it off, or tell them the truth, something he hadn’t planned on doing until he was actually in labour, ready to squeeze this watermelon out his arsehole.

The girls burst out laughing, Louis breathes.

“Boys can’t be pregnant, silly,” Daisy says then, amidst the laughter, and Jay comes in to the room, Ernie in her arms. Louis comes over all hot then, to think than in a couple of months, that’ll be him, with a baby in his arms, one that _he_ made, _he_ cooked up for nine months, it makes his parenting instincts kick in.

“What’s all the fuss about, sweet peas?” Jay says, a smile on her face. Ernie makes grabby hands for Louis, and Jay hands him over with a kiss on the cheek. Louis takes him gladly, hugging the little baby close to his body.

“Lottie said Louis could be pregnant, cos he’s so chubby,” Phoebe says, and Jay chuckles then, though if Louis was asked, he’d say it was a little forced.

“What a funny thing to say,” she says, “Go and help your dad with the decorations, will you, girls? Louis and I have some catching up to do,”

Louis sits down at the kitchen table and bounces Ernie on his knee as the girls file out of the kitchen with a huff. Jay takes over from Fizzy, who was chopping vegetables, and deliberately keeps her back turned on Louis. Somehow, he knows she knows, and he knows what’s coming.

“So,” she says, the knife hitting the chopping board punctuates her words, “What have I missed?”

“Oh, nothing much,” he says lightly, “Finished the tour, released the album, the usual, y’know,”

“My, that’s a lot,” she replies, her voice is slower than usual, and Louis doesn’t like it, “Another tour under your belt, another album, another X-Factor performance.”

Louis gulps. He definitely knows where this is going.

“Saw that, by the way, the X-Factor performance. It was very good. You wrote that song, did you?” his mum asks.

“The five of us did, yeah,” Louis tries to keep his voice light, but he can feel it tremoring with nerves as he speaks. He puts a hand on his bump to protect pumpkin if he needs to.

“Saw your little hiccup too, it didn’t hurt, did it?”

Louis gulps. “What didn’t?”

“When your baby kicked you,” and there it is. His mother knows, of course his mother knows, she’s the one who birthed him, she probably knew he could have kids from the moment he was born.

Louis doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for, “It was an elbow,”

“Oh Lou,” she says, finally dropping the knife and taking the chair next to him. “Why didn’t you tell me, Boobear? I could’ve helped you,”

“It was easier if no one knew, easier to keep it a secret,” he mumbles steadying Ernest with one hand as he wraps the other round his mum’s waist, hugging her close to him.

“But the boys know, don’t they?” Louis stays silent, “Louis,” she sighs, “You’ve got to tell someone, what if something happens to you or the baby when you’re doing a photo shoot or something? Someone has to know, so they know how to deal with the situation.”

“Mum–”

“Speaking of, when are you going on maternity leave?”

Louis laughs, he doesn’t mean to, just the ridiculousness of the conversation forces it out of him, “I can’t go on maternity leave, mum, I have to go on tour,”

“Louis Tomlinson, the health of you and your baby is ten times more important than some poxy tour–”

Louis sighs, “Mum,”

“No! You listen to me, if you put the health of my first grandchild at risk I will fly to flipping Antarctica, or wherever it is you’re jetting off to this time, and cut that thing out of you so you don’t hurt it anymore,” she says, half raging. It sounds ridiculous, the way she says it, but Louis doesn’t dare laugh, because he knows she is deadly serious. “You can’t put another life at risk, Boobear, that’s just not fair,”

“Mum, listen, it’s fine, I’ve got a plan, okay?” He says, calming her down. Ernie squirms on his lap and he puts the boy on the floor, lets him crawl on the floor over to the dining room. “I’ve already talked to Paul to ask the stage designers about having more opportunities for us to sit down, so I’m not on my feet for too long, I definitely won’t be jumping around as much as I used to, late nights are already out of the window, and my due date isn’t until after the tour is over, so that’s fine too. It’ll be alright, I promise.”

Jay doesn’t buy it, Louis can tell, but she doesn’t voice such opinions. “Just don’t wear yourself out, love, okay? I worry about you when you’re on the road enough as it is, now I have to worry about little baby as well,”

“It’s fine, mum,” he says, rubbing his bump. Louis smiles when he feels pumpkin kick against him and reaches for his mum’s hand, placing it on the bump. Jay’s face lights up as she strokes Louis’ tummy. “Pumpkin and I are just fine.”

*

Before Louis leaves, they tell his sisters that they’re going to be aunties, figuring they’re all just about old enough to understand what a secret is and that they have to keep one. After they all establish that it isn’t a joke and Louis is in fact with child, Fizzy just bursts into (happy) tears. Lottie won’t stop touching his bump, and the twins are throwing all sorts of weird questions.

“So, who’s the mummy?” Daisy asks, and honestly, it takes Louis by surprise. He hadn’t thought of it like that, _he’s_ the mummy, really, but Louis has thought of himself as the daddy up until this point.

“I am, I guess,” he says, resting a hand across his bump. Lottie is still touching where pumpkin is kicking, and Louis leaves her to it. If she wants to touch, she can touch.

“Then, who’s the daddy?” Phoebe asks.

Louis bites his lip. “Harry. Harry is the daddy.”

“You and Harry are together?” Fizzy says, “I knew it! Larry is real, bitches!”

“No we– we’re not together, Fizz, sorry to disappoint,” Louis says with a nervous laugh, “It was a onetime thing,”

“So…It was an accident?” Lottie asks. Her hand stills on Louis’ tummy, as if she’s a little bit ashamed of her brother.

Louis nods his head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love it, doesn’t mean I don’t want it, girls,”

“Does Harry know he’s got a kid?” Fizzy says. Louis could strangle her.

“No, he doesn’t. And he’s not going to. This is a secret girls, you’ve got to keep it, okay?”

The girls nod frantically and Louis sighs, drumming his fingers against his bump so baby knows he’s there. _I love you, pumpkin, don’t forget that._

*

Louis is well in to his third trimester by the time the first leg of the OTRA tour starts in February. He manages to sneak by Harry and Zayn’s birthday parties by drinking lemonade and leaving at ten pm. He feels bad, because they both notice he left early, but Louis knows if he stayed up any longer he’d probably keel over. The flight over is incredibly uncomfortable, but Louis sticks to what the website says and walks around every hour, puts the seat back so it’s more comfortable, and pretty much sleeps the whole way there.

Paps and fans are waiting for them in Sydney, and even though it’s magnificently hot, Louis puts on a baggy jumper he stole from Liam in the hope that it hides his ever growing bump. He holds the underside of his belly protectively as they walk through the flashing cameras and screaming fans, until he finally makes it to the car, and sandwiches himself in between Harry and Zayn, his two protectors.

When they get to the hotel, Louis goes to his and Harry’s shared room immediately, not joining the gang for dinner, even though he’s starving hungry. He dumps his suitcase on the bottom of the wardrobe and just lays on his bed, thinking.

“I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?” he says, even though baby is the only other living thing in here. “Being on tour instead of at home. It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

Pumpkin doesn’t respond with any sort of movement and Louis sighs, using the pillows to prop himself up against the headboard. He runs both his hands over his bump, and starts quietly whistling _‘You and I’_ , hoping baby can hear. It doesn’t take long for pumpkin to reply, with a couple of kicks, and Louis laughs quietly to himself, rubbing the area in circles, in hope that the warmth from his hand will comfort the little guy.

“What am I gonna do with you, eh?” He says softly, letting pumpkin’s rhythm send him off to sleep. His eyes aren’t even closed for two seconds when his phone pings loudly in his ear, indicating he’s been mentioned in a tweet from the media. He has different sounds for different sorts of mentions (Louis’ cousin is a web hacker).

Louis opens his eyes and reads the tweet, knowing it can only be bad news.

_@OKmagAustralia: Has @Louis_Tomlinson let himself go? Check out our new article to find out!_

Oh, that is just fantastic. Louis clicks the link nonetheless and skim reads the article.

_One Direction arrived earlier this evening in Sydney Airport to kick start their all new On The Road Again tour, with the first concert in the Allianz stadium this Saturday. The boys looked rather dashing, as per usual, but we noticed a certain Louis Tomlinson seemed to be packing on the pounds. Did he eat too much over the Christmas holidays? Oh we feel you, Louis, we do._

_Still, we just hope this doesn’t affect his performance too much for the duration of the tour, and he continues to be his happy, charming self on stage. We never doubted you for a second, Lou!_

_Pictures below._

Lovely. Now the whole world thinks he’s fat.

“There you go, pumpkin, I officially am a pumpkin as well,” he says, rubbing his belly. Louis kisses his hand and presses it to his belly button, hoping pumpkin will understand the significance of his action, but he knows it won’t.

The hotel door opens and Harry walks in, holding what seems to be a basket of bread and fruit. Louis smiles when Harry drops a kiss to the top of his head and puts the basket on his bedside table.

“Met some fans on the way up,” he says casually as he sits on the edge of his own bed. “Asked me to give you this food and tell you to not listen to what the media says.”

“Oh,”

“Course, I had no clue what they were talking about, so I asked what they meant, and–” Harry says softly. He shifts forwards and rests his hand on Louis’ knee, “You aren’t fat, Louis, okay? It was what you were wearing, it fell all wrong and made you look wider.”

Louis raises an eyebrow and lifts up his shirt. “What about now?”

“Oh,” is all Harry says.

“It’s alright, Harry, it doesn’t bother me,” he says lightly. It does bother him, but if he lets Harry know that, he’ll seem weak. Louis can look after himself. “They don’t have the full picture anyway, so it doesn’t matter. They’re basing all their facts on a couple of dodgy pictures and false information.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry says, scratching the back of his head. “I knew that.”

Louis just rolls his eyes and reaches out for Harry to come join him on the bed. “Come here and cuddle with me, you big doughnut.”

Harry laughs and flops down next to Louis, snuggling into his side. He throws an arm carelessly over Louis’ body and Louis hisses in pain, the sudden weight pressing pumpkin into is already aching spine and kidneys. Harry jumps up immediately, his face full of concern. “What happened? Are you okay? What did I do?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” he mumbles, shifting over and pushing Harry back down on the bed. Harry stays quiet while Louis moves the two of them around so his comfortable, eventually ending up in some sort of awkward spooning, Harry’s arm over Louis shoulders. “Maybe you should go on the bottom today, eh?”

Harry hums and Louis chokes back laughter at what he just said. It’s hilarious, because it sounds like he’s talking about fucking arrangements, and after what happened last time Louis bottomed, it would probably be safer if Harry bottomed from then on. Hold on– is Louis seriously thinking about fucking Harry again? What happened to no attachments? A one shot deal? Good going brain, really.

Harry doesn’t seem to notice Louis’ internal dilemma and just kisses him on the back of his head. “Night boo,”

Louis doesn’t get a wink.

*

Concerts are difficult for Louis to adjust to, now that he’s big and sluggish, and pumpkin’s kicks regularly prevent him from jumping around, or causes him to miss a note. If people notice, they don’t say anything, and regular cuddles from Harry help him get through all the hate from the media he’s getting. It sounds bad, but Louis honestly can’t wait until this show is over, where he has four days off to rest up, before the next leg of the tour starts. It’s a bit longer, going on for a full month this time, and Louis isn’t sure how he’s going to manage, seeing that just two weeks has completely tired him out for all eternity. He’ll make it through, though, he has to.

They’re doing the final prep before the concert starts, final touches of hair and makeup, getting their mics and in-ears working, and so on, when Louis first feels it. Lou is messing with his hair, spraying it with tonnes of hairspray so it won’t wilt during the concert, and they’re chatting about little Lux – wow, Louis hasn’t even thought about baby names yet – when he gets an incredibly sharp pain in his lower regions. Louis gasps and scrunches his eyes up, holding his belly tightly as he waits for the pain to go away.

“What’s wrong, Louis? Are you alright, dear?” Lou asks, she puts a hand on his shoulder and tries to help him stand up right, from where he’s bent over. Pumpkin is squirming and it feels like he’s being stabbed in the anus for a few more seconds, and then it just stops. Louis clears his throat and unfolds himself, smiling reassuringly at Lou.

“I’m fine,” he says with a smile, and then he’s given his five minute call and has to go.

Pumpkin feels heavier than normal, it’s head sitting lower than it usually does against his bladder, and Louis has to pee. He has to pee, but he also has to go on stage, and he can’t decide which is more important. He chooses stage, and holds it in until the interval.

*

Louis gets a few more pains during the first half, but it’s only once or twice, so he doesn’t bother too much about it, figures it’s a stitch and goes to sit down for a while. Harry notices and sends him a concerned look, to which Louis responds with a smile (though it could be classed as a grimace). He makes it to the twitter questions, until he really can’t hold it anymore and makes his excuses to leave. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

“Sorry lads, I’ll be back in a minute, I just really really need a wee,” he says, and waits until Liam gives him the go to rush back stage to the loo’s.

Louis doesn’t have much time, so he pulls down his maternity jeans and pants and sits down on the toilet, angling his wee so it goes in the bowl. When he comes to wipe, Louis notices his arsehole is wet as well, but figures his wee must’ve splashed back and winces, wiping carefully. He gives pumpkin a pat after washing his hands and then comes back on stage, to where the other boys are very unsuccessfully stalling and awaiting his return.

They get through one last twitter question, until Harry is introducing the next track and the lot of them are jumping around to the dancy tune of midnight memories. Louis gets another pain, but he successfully ignores it and listens for his cue.

“Tell me that I’m wrong, but I do what I please, way too many people in the Addison Lee, now I’m at the age where I know what I need, oh, whoa– _oh fuck_ ,” The pain strikes again, but this time worse than all the other times, and Louis can’t stop himself from crying out. His knees buckle and he has to hold on to the railing beside him so he doesn’t completely keel over. Louis grits his teeth and bares through the pain until it starts to subside.

Zayn dances his way over and places a hand on Louis’ back. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be f–” he tries to stand up straight, but the pain strikes again and his face contorts in pain, “ _Fuck_ ,”

Louis’ whole body thrums with pain and he collapses, Zayn supporting all his weight with the arm slung around his shoulder. Zayn shakes him, feels Louis slipping – maybe Louis can feel himself slipping too, the pain is just too much to bare right now – and waves his hand in front of his face.

“Louis? Lou, stay with me, yeah?” He says, and Louis forces himself to nod. The pain comes again and he doubles over, groaning loudly. “Alright, I’m gonna sit you down on the edge of the ramp, alright Louis?”

Louis nods again and lets Zayn sit him down, slightly out of sight from the crowd and kneels in front of him. Zayn takes Louis’ face in his hands and looks at him with concerned eyes. “Okay?” Louis doesn’t even get a chance to nod, just groans in pain once again. “I’m going to get the medic, I don’t like it.”

“Zayn it’s fine, I can wait till the interval,” he says, his voice is shaky and uneven and he knows Zayn doesn’t buy it, “ _Shit,_ ” he mumbles as the pain comes back.

“Will you be fine on your own?” Zayn asks, but Louis can’t respond, too focused on trying to reduce the stabbing pain in his belly. “I’m going to tell Harry,”

Before Louis can protest, Zayn is gone and Louis cranes his neck just enough to see Zayn whispering in Harry’s ear. Harry’s face pales and his eyes dart to where Louis is slouched, in the corner of the stage, before he nods once and Zayn goes running off. Niall is singing his little middle 8 part, and Harry is up next, but he just gives his mic to Niall and sprints across the stage to where Louis is sitting.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks and Louis glares at him through watery eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Louis says, clutching his stomach as the pain returns again, “What about your bit,”

“It’s just a song, Lou, Niall and Liam will cope.” Harry says in response and Louis sways, falling backwards, until Harry’s strong arms prevent him from falling back any further.

“You love that verse,” Louis reasons as soon as he’s upright again, clutching on to Harry’s arm for support. Louis hisses and hangs his head low, resting it on Harry’s forearm and Harry responds by clutching his hip tightly with his other hand. It grounds him, slightly, helps him feel less airy and fainty.

“I can sing it any time I want,” Harry laughs, “You on the other hand, if you die, Lou, there isn’t another one of you,”

Louis just glares, “Don’t be a drama queen, Harry, I’m not going to– _fuck_ ,”

The song finishes and Liam and Niall apologise to the crowd for such a shitty performance, before rushing over to Louis as well.

“Are you okay mate?” Niall asks, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Does he look okay to you?” Harry snaps, and Niall holds his hands up in defence.

“Stop fighting and carry me the fuck back stage,” Louis snaps, groaning when another wave of pain hits him.

“Alright, Lou, can you stand up?” Liam asks.

Louis rolls his eyes, “I’m not an invalid, Liam,” he says, and takes Harry’s hand to help pull himself up on. When he stands up, Louis feels pumpkin move a whole lot closer to his arsehole, the weight of its head heavy and uncomfortable.

Louis finally gets it. He finally gets what’s going on.

“Fuck, no no no, this can’t be happening, fuck,” he mumbles to himself as he slouches back down again, “It’s not time, it’s not ready, shit shit, _fuck_ ,”

“What are you talking about, mate?” Liam asks kindly, a hand on his shoulder, but Louis just snaps.

“I’m in fucking _labour_ , you fucktards,”

Their mouths hang open in shock. “You– what?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m a freak, a pregnant male, whatever. I won’t be pregnant for very much fucking longer if you don’t help me back stage!” Louis screeches, he doesn’t mean it, but it just really fucking hurts. Now that he’s done both, Louis can say giving birth is _definitely_ more painful than being kicked in the balls.

They jump into action then, deciding the best way to carry him back stage is a piggy back from Liam, Harry supporting his back from behind, and Niall runs ahead to find Zayn and the medic. Liam and Harry set him down on the sofa in the ‘chill out’ room and Liam goes away to call Jay and then an ambulance, but Harry stays, stroking his hand and combing through his hair, wincing every time Louis hisses in pain or doubles over.

“Harry,” he groans, grabbing for the boy to lean closer. Louis needs to tell the boy how he feels, how much he loves him (it’s taken him seven months to realised he had feelings attached after their no feelings attached hook up) before it’s too late.

“Yes, darling? What do you need, Lou?”

“I, I need to tell you, how much I–” he begins, and Louis tries to say ‘love you’ he really does, but in the end, that’s not really what comes out of his mouth, when another contraction hits. “How much I fucking _hate you_ , you dick,”

Harry blinks, his mouth slightly agape. “I– I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s all your fault, you arsehole,” he groans, still in pain from the contraction, “You’re the one who got me– _fuck_ – if you hadn’t have fucked me, I wouldn’t be in this shitting mess,”

“You mean it’s– I’m, I’m going to be a dad?” Harry asks in disbelief, his eyes lighting up like a little kid who’s just been told it’s Christmas.

Louis groans again, tugging Harry closer to him, “Yes, you’re going to be a fucking dad, now shut the hell up and kiss me, you son of a bitch,”

Louis pulls Harry’s collar and smashes their lips together. It’s messy and uncontrolled, and Louis groans in pain into Harry’s mouth, but neither of them mind too much and they both pull away with giant grins on their faces.

“I love you,” Harry says breathlessly.

“I love you too, you fucking dickface,” Louis replies and they both fall into a fit of giggles.

*

_Omg, @Louis_Tomlinson just collapsed at the concert tonight, I hope he’s okay :(_ _#GetWellLouis_

*

_Is Louis okay?? Did anyone see what happened?? @Louis_Tomlinson #GetWellLouis_

*

_Guys, I can lip read and I think @Louis_Tomlinson said he was going into labour!! #GetWellLouis #LouisHasABaby_

*

**_BREAKING NEWS:_ ** _Louis Tomlinson goes in to labour on stage!_

*

_Who’s the Daddy?: Louis Tomlinson gives birth_

*

_Wait if Louis is preggers, who knocked him up? #LouisHasABaby I think you mean #LarryHasABaby_

*

_LARRY IS REAL BITCHES!!! #LarryHasABaby @Louis_Tomlinson @Harry_Styles_

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“Babe, I’ve got the door, have you got the carrier?”

Louis rolls his eyes, “You mean the one with our child inside? Yes dear, I do.”

Harry grins and presses a kiss to Louis’ forehead, before leading him in to their home. After Louis’ little labour fiasco, management had no choice but to let Louis and Harry make their new found relationship known to the public, even let them move back in together and everything.

“Let’s get you settled, pumpkin, would you like that?” Louis mumbles to the tiny sleeping baby girl in the baby carrier in his arms.

Since Louis went into preterm labour, Dorothy was too premature and couldn’t breathe on her own, and had to go in the intensive baby care unit. Now, three months later, she’s finally home for the first time, in the home Louis and Harry have built together for her in London. All the boys helped with the nursery, picking out colour schemes and building cots and wardrobes and buying toys to fill her toy box. Harry went on some extreme parenting courses, so he actually knew what to do when baby came home, and Louis spent most of his time at the hospital, by her side, hoping his voice would make her better sooner. Whilst he was there, babies died, and families were left shattered, Louis is very grateful it didn’t come to that.

Louis carries Dorothy into her nursery and carefully places her in the cot, tucking her under the yellow blanket. He knows she’ll be awake in a few hours, but Louis is just thankful he can get some sleep right now, if it’s only an hour or so. Harry wraps an arm round his shoulder and kisses his head.

“She’s so beautiful, Lou,” he mumbles quietly, so as not to wake her.

“I know, I think she takes after her dad,” he jokes, hugging Harry’s body tighter.

Harry laughs, before he stops and says, “Wait, is that you or me?”

Louis giggles softly, and demands Harry gives him a piggy back to their room so he can go to sleep. Harry obliges immediately and it warms Louis’ heart. Things are going to be alright, he thinks, right here with his two favourite people, his own little family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, I know that was written painfully badly and is completely unedited.
> 
> Please Leave kudos//comment//love me//smile
> 
> :) xo


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